


So ripe the knife slurped

by guava



Category: Kamen Rider Gaim, Kamen Rider Series
Genre: Facials, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 19:24:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3861814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guava/pseuds/guava
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of the work day, Sid made good use of his opportunity to literally sully his sleeping boss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So ripe the knife slurped

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt from the Kamen Rider Kink Meme: "Takatora/Anyone, facials; Basically I just want someone, anyone, cumming on his face please. I'm okay with literally any pairings including incest." I've added imaginary humiliation in the build up to the facial, so watch out if you're squicked by that. 
> 
> The title is a line taken from the poem ["The Melon" by Charles Simic](http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poem/236976) (hehe).

Did his boss just die on him?

Sid tamped his glee down upon noticing the slight rise and fall of Takatora’s chest. Still, his opportunity of catching the great Kureshima Takatora dozing in his office chair in the middle of the work day should not be wasted. He walked to the other side of Takatora’s desk and used the tip of his boot to lightly kick the base of Takatora’s office chair. The sliding of the chair across the marble floor shook Takatora’s body a little, yet the man remained dead to the world.

Perhaps Professor Ryouma has drugged him out of ‘concern’. As he took a seat on Takatora’s desk, Sid picked up Takatora’s black Yggdrasil coffee mug  and sniffed it for evidence. Nothing except the faint smell of cold, stale coffee. He put it back down and turned back to Takatora. Another possibility crossed his mind—what if the Professor didn’t kill Kureshima Takatora, but instead replaced him with a literal puppet king? What if that was a mannequin who looked identical to Takatora sitting in that chair?

Oh man, Sid should stop coming up with these crackpot theories before he cracked himself up too much and actually risk waking up Takatora. ‘But hey, what if it’s not so crazy?’ He thought, his earlier glee returning to him. ‘What if it’s really an imposter in front of me? I should check just to be sure, or else I won’t get paid by this poser.’

He shrugged away all awareness of his craziness as he unzipped his pants and pulled his pants and briefs down to let his junk dangle free. There was no way anyone could sleep through this. He kept his eyes on Takatora as he applied firm strokes to his growing erection with one hand and used the nails of the other to tickle his balls.

‘Shit, they’re so full,’ Sid thought, stretching and squeezing his balls. ‘Damn you, Kureshima. I can’t get a decent lay in ages all because of your fucking slavedriving ways.’

The squelching sounds of Sid’s wanking failed to make Takatora stir. Sid became increasingly determined to give him a rude awakening, ensuring that he won’t be able to sleep so well for a long, long time. If he woke up now, Sid might show him mercy. He might whip out the knife hidden in his boot and press it against Takatora’ neck. But he wouldn’t even prick Takatora. No, he would turn on the webcam on Takatora’s laptop and make Takatora do the same thing he was doing right now to broadcast for the viewing pleasure of Takatora’s beloved employees.

And if he was as exhausted as he looked, Takatora would most unlikely be able to get it up for very long. Imagine, the potential saviour of humanity failing at the basic act of self-pleasure. If it came to that, Sid would have to give him a figurative helping hand and give him blow by blow instructions on how to efficiently wank. He would make his boss thoroughly finger his asshole for his life and wouldn’t care if Takatora considered it as part of his noble sacrifice for this godforsaken world.

At the brink of coming, Sid wrapped his slicked fingers around the base of his cock, directing his ejaculation towards Takatora. The translucent fluid arced through the air, landing on Takatora’s temple. Acting on the adrenalin of dirtying his so-called superior, Sid shifted his dick to spatter more of his come onto Takatora. Flecks of ejaculate stuck onto Takatora’s fine eyebrows, trickling down to catch onto his long eyelashes. Swathes of it coated the prominent arches of Takatora’s nose and cheeks, seeming like sap tapped out of a tight-barked tree. Sid squirted the last of it in the hollow between Takatora’s neck tendons, effectively dirtying the collar of Takatora’s dress shirt with a few drops.

Dazed in his post-orgasm state, Sid was shaking off the last clinging drops onto the office floor when he heard Takatora’s soft sigh. He instantly looked up to find that while Takatora’s lips had parted slightly, his eyes remained closed and he remained slumped in his office chair.

How could anyone sleep through _that_!?

‘Oh well,’ Sid thought. Shrugging, Sid helped himself to the tissue box on the desk. As he cleaned up his crotch, he watched the sunlight streaming in from the large windows reflecting off the sheen of his come on Takatora’s skin. Takatora would eventually discover it having hardened to a crust. He would also have to live with the reality that no matter how furiously he washed himself, it would be impossible to wash away the spunk absorbed by his pores.  

When he had pulled his underwear and pants back on, Sid flicked the soiled tissue in his hand at Takatora’s crotch. Let him first assume that he had fallen asleep after a bout of masturbation. As for why his pants stayed dry, that was a bonus mystery that he would never solve.

While exiting the office, he half-turned and tipped his hat in his trademark fashion.

“Good work, Overseer Kureshima,” he practically shouted.

He imagined his satisfaction reverberating through Yggdrasil Tower as he slammed the door on his way out.


End file.
